


The Letter

by AbbathaJayne



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:18:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbathaJayne/pseuds/AbbathaJayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those words jump off the letter that I found behind our bed. Haunting me they echo in my head. Too bad that letter isn't mine. I won't be there to say goodbye." It kills him reading the words so neatly written on the paper in his hands, the handwriting of a woman. But, he wants Derek to be happy. So packing up his bags, Stiles leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Letter

_Meet me there at midnight. Same place we always go. Are you absolutely sure he doesn't know? I've missed you so much. I just want you to be mine. I don't want to share you anymore.  
Please, come back to me. We both know that I'm so much better for you._

Stiles's hands shook, the paper in his fingers slipping from his grasp and fluttering to the floor. Cursive writing mocked him as he held back a small sob, bringing his hand up and pressing his dry, cracked lips against his knuckles.  
The young man sat on the edge of the large queen sized bed he shared with his boyfriend, staring down at the letter on the floor, unable to understand why. They had been together for four years, four god damn years, and everything had been _perfect_.

Sure they fought over trivial things, but that's what every couple did. It wasn't all sunshine and bumblebees. But they always made up. They'd always end up curled together under the sheets, holding each other tightly and whispering their apologies, wiping away any doubt of the other no longer loving them.   
But this, this wasn't something Stiles could forgive Derek for.

Gritting his teeth, Stiles jumped up from the bed and grabbed the frame, pulling until it was far enough from the wall for him to reach behind it. He shouldn't be doing it, but he just had to see if there were any other letters. If it was just this one. If it was just a mistake that Derek made.

Pressing himself along the wall, Stiles reached behind the bed, his breath hitching as the tip of his fingers felt more paper. Straining slightly, the boy reached further and dragged them out. _All of them._

There wasn't just one letter. There was a dozen, all shoved behind the headboard of their bed. Derek didn't even _try_ to hide them, it was like he _wanted_ Stiles to see them. Like he put them there so Stiles would find them, take the hint and leave. Like he couldn't tell Stiles he was a bother so instead he used the stupid letters of his secret fuck.

It felt as though someone was holding Stiles's throat between their fingers, squeezing as tight as they could. He couldn't breathe. He could barely even see through the tears that had swarmed his vision.

_When can I next see you? I've been counting down the days. I promise you our secret will be safe. It's so lonely in my bed at night. All I dream about is being in your strong arms and making you mine._

It hurt so much more that it was a woman. Derek had told him that after Kate, he'd never looked at a woman the same way. That he couldn't stand them.   
Yet here were the letters to prove that it was all one big lie.

Standing up stiffly, Stiles glanced over at the clock on the wall. 1:38. Derek wouldn't be home until 7, once he drove through all the afternoon traffic.   
Taking a deep breath, Stiles decided that he'd write his own letter to Derek. He'd stop being such a burden to the man that he loved. Because even if it hurt Stiles, he'd rather Derek be happy than trapped in a relationship with some overly hyperactive and useless human boy.

Numbly walking over to the desk, Stiles sat himself down in the plush office chair he had insisted on buying because it was just so irresistibly comfortable. God, it seemed so long ago.

The letter wrote itself really. It was like Stiles was watching someone else write how he felt. Out of body experience or some shit like that.   
It didn't matter though. Once he finished the letter, he'd pack his jeep with his things and go back to Beacon Hills. His dad was still there, still the sheriff, still in the house Stiles grew up in.   
He smiled fondly, remembering all the fun he had as a kid in that house. All the memories he shared with his dad, his mum and Scott. Some happy, some sad.

Sighing heavily, Stiles reread the letter, more tears filling his eyes.

_Derek, I may not be perfect. I know that. But I tried my damn hardest to be perfect for you. Obviously, it wasn't good enough because you broke the promise I thought you'd never break. You were everything to me, you made me want to change, to be better than what I ever was._  
This is going to be my last change for you. By the time you've read this, I'll be long gone. There's no way to turn this thing around.   
I'm leaving so that you can be truly happy. Happy in ways that I never made you.   
Don't worry about this hurting me. Seriously, just as long as you're happy, then I'm happy. It's nothing new anyways, I wasn't lying when I told you that everyone ends up leaving me one way or another.

_Have a good life Derek, I'm glad that I could have been a small part of it. I love you._

Stiles wiped his face with his jacket sleeve, leaning back in the chair to stare up at the ceiling. Four years down the drain.   
Derek was his love, his other part, the one who filled the gaping hole in his heart.   
Yeah he sounded like some stupid sixteen year old, but it was true.

He had get this over and done with. There was no use pretending that he hadn't found any of the letters and continue a relationship with a massive lie hanging over them. It would just make things so much worse.  
First off, Stiles had to gather all the letters he left on the floor.   
He didn't want to read more than what he had already seen, so he kept his eyes firmly ahead of him as he neatly stacked them on the desk, his own letter perched on top. There's no way Derek wouldn't be able to miss them, he was the master of detail. You know, werewolf and all that jazz.

Then he went about straightening the bed to how it was beforehand, continuing his little clean up that had caused him to find the stupid letter in the first place.   
He patted down the lumps in the bed covers, dusted down the shelves, tucked in the loose corners of the quilt, all while tears streamed down his pale and mole dotted cheeks. His nose was red from the constant wiping on the back of his jacket sleeve and his eyes were all puffy from crying.

It nearly killed him going through their joined closet and sorting out his clothes from Derek's. Stiles hadn't realised how domesticated he and Derek had become compared to when they first moved in to the apartment. Everything had remained in boxes for weeks until Lydia burst her way into the house, unpacked everything to how she saw fit then told them to get used to it.

He left the photo's in their places. It would have been too painful of a reminder what he had left behind. He did that for his sake, not for Derek.

Still sniffling, Stiles shuffled around the house with bags, packing what belonged to him into them. A book here, an ornament there.   
Derek bought most of the things in the apartment, leaving Stiles to bring only his essentials and small knick-knacks he took fancy when out shopping.   
So when the young man put all his belongings into his trusty light blue jeep, which had somehow survived the rest of his high school career, it only filled his back seat, not that he was complaining or anything.

Making his way back upstairs, Stiles dreaded the one last scan he would be making. Too many memories were made in this apartment.   
The elderly lady next door who always smiled, blew kisses and baked cookies (how cliché) was definitely something Stiles would miss. The family across the hall with the kid Stiles often babysat was another thing he'd miss. But he had to put it all behind him.

He was doing this for Derek.

He had to do this.

There was no turning back.

Before he knew it, he was standing at the kitchen island, his fingers tightly clutching the marble counter top.   
The clock on top of the fridge read 4:02. Two more hours until Derek would be back. He had to leave now or he'd never make it out of here. He'd change his mind, bring everything back inside and pretend he never saw the letters.

Looking down at the car keys in his hand, Stiles felt his bottom lip tremble. "It's now or never." He whispered as he pulled the apartment key off the chain.   
Placing it onto the counter top, a tightness clutched at his chest. "No. No panic attacks." He gasped, clenching his fists tightly. For a few moments, he took deep breaths, counting in his head. After he counted to 48, the tightness eased and Stiles could breath properly again.

He took a small step backwards toward the front door. Then another. And another, until his back made contact with the wooden frame. His eyes darting from one side of the room to the other.

"Goodbye." Stiles whispered to the room, nobody there to hear the voice of a boy who had been through so much finally breaking.

Then with that, he turned and left the place he called home. The door quietly closing with a click behind him.

_I won't be there to say goodbye._


	2. Up and gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Where'd I go wrong. Where's the boy that used to run? Could it be he's up and gone away? He seems so far away."  
> Derek couldn't breathe. He had never seen these letters before, but he had seen the handwriting previously. He knew only one person in their 20's who still dotted their i's and their j's with little love hearts.  
> So finding their number in his phone, Derek pressed 'call'. They answered after two rings. "What the hell did you do?"

The front door was unlocked when Derek arrived. He had somehow gotten out of the office early and beaten the dreaded afternoon traffic to surprise Stiles. It wasn't something he got to do often, but when the opportunity rose, the man snatched at it.   
The 29 year old dropped his briefcase onto the leather two seater in front of the television unit, purposely ignoring the paperwork inside which he still had to complete. Out of sight, out of mind.

"Stiles?"

Silence. Usually the apartment was full of noise. If it wasn't the tv, then the stereo was on and the younger would be doing laundry or cooking. That's just how it usually was.

Listening carefully, Derek found that he couldn't hear Stiles's heartbeat. Well, he couldn't expect the hyperactive man to be home all the time, he had his own things he liked to do and Derek didn't mind. Whilst he was off doing Werewolf things, Stiles would always find a way to entertain himself out in town.   
Though, Derek found that he preferred it when Stiles was there when he arrived home from the office. It just made all his stress leave the moment he heard the younger's heartbeat and could smell his scent.

Padding down the hallway toward their bedroom, Derek rolled his shoulders, sighing as they cracked and released some of the tension which had built up over the day. He'd have to get Stiles to give him a massage later on.

An uneasiness feeling began to swim in Derek's chest as he kept walking through the hallway. Something didn't seem right about the place. It felt as though there was something missing. What it was, the werewolf couldn't put his finger on it. It couldn't be something big, but it was something significant.

Pushing open the wooden door to the bedroom, the feeling intensified tenfold. Everything was perfectly neat and clean in the room. _But Stiles's things were gone.  
_ There was nothing there aside from Derek's belongings and the photos of them around the room.

Derek felt his stomach jump to his throat and his heart stopped for a moment.

What was going on?

Searching around for a clue, Derek's mind became blank. He suddenly couldn't think straight. Then he saw the papers on the desk.   
All stacked neatly in a pile right in the centre of the wooden surface. All of them crumpled aside from the one sitting on the top.

Frowning, the werewolf grabbed the pile and made his way over to the bed. Sitting down onto the matrass stiffly, he couldn't help but notice how cold it was underneath him. The whole apartment felt cold, meaning Stiles hadn't been here for hours.

"Jesus..." Derek muttered as he began to read the first letter which he recognised to be in Stiles's handwriting.

It felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. As he came to the end of the letter, Derek was struggling to breathe. With growing frustration, desperation and pain, Derek flipped through each letter, scanning through them in hopes that it was all some silly joke that Stiles was pulling.  

He had never seen these letters before and here was Stiles saying to have a good life with this woman. Derek had never been so confused in his life. Looking at the handwriting carefully, he mentally checked off who could have written them. Whilst the handwriting was neat, it wasn't neat  enough to be Lydia's and sure she was a bitch but she'd never do something like this to Stiles and Derek. She was the one who kept pushing them into situations leading them to become closer prior to their relationship.   
As much as Derek disliked Allison because of what her aunt did to his family, he knew it wasn't her. She was too kind hearted, much unlike Kate, and she was also oh so deeply in love with Scott that it was quite sickening how much those two fit together. Besides, why would she come all the way up from Beacon Hills, a five hour drive, just to hide these letters around the house? So there was Allison off the list, which left the one female pack member who had followed Stiles and Derek like a little puppy dog.

Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his contacts list and pressed call, cursing as he hadn't realised as soon as he looked at the handwriting, only one person he knew in their 20's still put little love hearts over their i's and j's. The person answered after two rings.

"I knew that you'd call me as soon as he was gone!" The bubbly voice cockily stated through the phone, almost breathless. Derek felt his anger grow at the voice and his scowl deepened. He could _hear_ her smirking.  
"What the fuck did you do Erica?"

"Well, I've always wondered what it'd be like to steal someone's boyfriend from them. Plus I'm sure you read the letters that I hid behind the bed. We're meant to be, Derek. I can offer you things that Stiles would never be able to. I can give you a litter, I'll love you forever, I'm beautiful, I can be everything he's not."   
"That's right, you're everything he's not and everything I don't want." Derek growled, his grip tightening on his cell phone.

Derek heard her sigh loudly, determined to change his mind. "Didn't you feel that spark when we kissed? Derek we're supposed to be together. You and I."  
"What spark? Are you living in some stupid romance movie? Anyways, that was before I was with Stiles and even then I pushed you off. Like I said, I had someone else in mind for you."   
"But I had you in mind for me." The girl growled, her wolf broke out in fury and desperation. "I want you for myself, Derek."  
The man sighed, rubbing his temple with his free hand and rolling his eyes. Of course, she was still living in her dream land. "We don't get what we want."

Erica huffed angrily. "What the hell was all that in the hospital then?" She demanded with a snarl, referring to when she was sixteen, unpopular and epileptic.  
The Alpha didn't know how to reply without making her more upset. He carefully calculated how he could explain how he just needed a pack and she had caught his eye because she wouldn't have been missed if her body rejected the bite.

_"Well?"_

"I saw potential in you to be in my pack." Derek stated slowly, carefully picking his words and listening to Erica's breathing for any signs of a bad reaction. "No, I didn't see you to be my mate or to raise my litter, but I saw you to raise someone's litter. And for a while, I saw that person to be Boyd."

"No. Don't you _dare_ bring up Boyd."  

Derek almost groaned, but he caught himself. She was still angry about Boyd leaving her. To be fair, it was her own fault. She left him first to find another pack but when she came crawling back to Beacon Hills, Boyd couldn't even face her.   
He had almost died at the hands at the Alpha pack because she had abandoned him.

It was then that Derek decided that he needed to go back to the Alpha he used to be, just for a moment. "Erica, you are a Beta and I'm an Alpha. With a mate. You might have seemed to have gotten comfortable in how this pack runs, therefore ignoring the boundaries set. The main one being leave the Alpha mate alone. I've been lenient but you are to _respect_ the Alpha and their mate. You know that. Don't make me eliminate you from my pack."

"This isn't over Derek. I _will_ make you mine." It was only a small quiver in her voice, but Derek heard the slight resignation. He didn't doubt that she would keep trying, but for now she was giving up.  
Without saying anything, Derek simply pressed the 'end call' button and brought it down from his ear.

How couldn't he had noticed that Erica and Stiles had been getting extremely close? How had Stiles not recognised her handwriting to begin with and put the pieces together?   
Of course Erica would have access to their apartment. She could have put the letters around the place when they weren't home or even snuck around when they were _in_ the apartment with her. All this time it was just some fucked up plan to break them up so she could swoop in and grab at what she wanted.

Huffing, the Alpha stared down at his darkened phone screen. He pressed the 'home' button and the screen brightened, showing a sneaky picture of him and Stiles at the boy's 19th birthday party both smiling at each other and completely unaware of the camera which had been in the possession of Allison at the time . The pack had organised a housewarming/birthday party out at Derek's loft (behind the Alpha wolf and Sheriff's backs of course) and Stiles ended up being so badly shit faced drunk that there was no way anybody was taking him home to his father.   
Not to give too many details, but the night had ended with a concussion caused by drunken kitchen counter sex gone wrong on Stiles's behalf after everyone else had left in the early hours of the morning.

Derek's frowned deepened and he pressed the first number on speed dial. He wasn't entirely sure why he was calling. Stiles was a pretty hard headed person and with the thought on mind that he was being cheated on, there would be no way that he'd answer. But there was still that small piece of hope that Derek was clutching to.  
But, just as he thought, the call rang out to voice mail.

Thinking about it carefully, Derek knew that aside from Sacramento, the only other place Stiles had to go was where they had both grown up, their other home. Beacon Hills. A seven hour drive away.

It was where his remaining family were and was the place he felt safe when things got bad. Either way, Stiles had just _up and gone and Derek was going to fight to make things how they should be._


End file.
